Possession
by Fallen Leafs
Summary: Kenny thinks people should just learn not to screw around with his property. Kyle objects to be property at all. The Alphabet has never been so intimidating, and Preschoolers have never been so frightening. Two-shot, K2.
1. Chapter 1

_Inspired by an odd experience at a concert, the time the local freak snuck up on me and collared me, my brother's collage buddies and the fact that Kenny is smexy._

**Possession**

There is a type of person uniformly and universally feared across the globe. He is usually white, with long, shaggy hair pulled into a ponytail. Fangs, skulls, and other terrifying things hang from his ears, eyebrows, and other piercings. His clothes are dark, covered with chains, and/or leather. He wears military boots and is never seen without a self-assured, creepy, lecherous grin. Kenny despises this concert/party/club-goer. I'm getting ahead of myself, but I'll go ahead and make a good lead-in for the story: _Why?_ Why does Kenny, tolerant of most anybody, hate this type of person?

Kyle attracts freaks.

It's true. Kyle is always the one catering at all hours of the night to a suicide-case, gently tearing away from an obsessive 'friend' (), explaining to druggies that, no, he would not like a joint, being asked to lead a _'nation of free love, Baby Red!'_, sneak-attack-collared, tackle-hugged by strangers, called daddy by three year olds, the whole bit. It made Kenny _seethe_. He wouldn't let the vulnerable-to-attack redhead to these concerts and parties if it weren't for the fact that Kyle genuinely adored the scene.

Kenny tried so, so hard not to let Kyle out of his sight, not tonight. The Edge was packed, there was a sea of hardcore-dancers by the stage that was blasting an odd rock-metal-soul mixture of music, alcohol was being consumed by the bucket-full, and he'd already seen several of the types of freaks that seem most drawn to his redhead. Despite his best efforts, however, Kenny had lost him. _Stan will be furious._

Kenny glided effortlessly through the crowds; they parted for him. Not dramatically, but enough to let any outsider know that you don't fuck with Kenny McCormick, the town badass and punk.

Kenny had tried, once, to make Kyle seem badass enough to not get picked on or molested, but how do you turn a five-foot-one, bubbly nerd with bouncing red curls, big, emotional green eyes, and no muscle (not to mention the kindness that radiated off of him) into something that a creepy wanna-be Dom looking for a hapless victim would stay away from? In the end, Kyle just looked he was being emo for Halloween.

Kenny snarled to himself in frustration, crossing his arms over his chest and letting his hair fall across his eyes as he scanned the area affectionately nicknamed 'The Couches' for a grinning redhead wearing skinny jeans and a shirt several sizes to big for him, but coming up empty-handed. He gazed up to the ceiling, feeling people push past him and shaking away slight claustrophobia, and wondered where Kyle could have possibly gotten to.

Finally, it clicked._ Please, don't._

Kenny sped off the door, hoping against hope that he wasn't outside. Kyle really shouldn't be wondering downtown by himself.

OoO

Kyle was leaning against the rails on the stairs, smiling and saying hello (though it was moot with the loud music) to the people who went up and down and enjoying the music, head nodding with the beat. He sighed contently, eyes falling closed as he tilted his head back with a small, happy smile stuck on his lips.

But there was something wrong. His lips, petal-pink and delicate-looking, tug downward into a frown and his eyes slit open to see someone leaning over him.

Kyle's eyes shot open as he took the person in. He was older, handsome in the misleading bad-boy way, college-age, and he towered over the little redhead. His hair was pulled back into a small ponytail at the nape of his neck, revealing large purple gauges. His had snake-bite lip rings and was wearing heavy make-up around his eyes, making the blue of them pop. There's a star tattooed on his left cheek, and his nails, from what Kyle could tell, seeing as his hands were clasping the railing on either side of him, were painted black. He was dressed in stereotypical rocker clothing, all leather and chains, and he was grinning almost happily. "Hey there, little guy." he greeted, leaning in closer and making Kyle shiver as he smelled the strong alcohol on his breath. The redhead let a smile break over his face and gently tried to duck under his arm and scurry off to find his blond-haired, blue-eyed protector, but the unnamed concert-goer caught his wrist, tauntingly singing, "Nah-ah-ah."

Kyle grinned weakly, knowing that no matter what occurred, he was getting an earful when Kenny found him.

OoO

Kyle shivered, still trying to creep away despite the concert-goer (**Z**, he'd been called by his friends)'s firm grip on his shoulder. Considering asking for help from passerby on the streets and ignoring one of the group members who asked if he was cold, he tried uneasily to curl in on himself for warmth in the face of the cold South Parkian winds. **Z** pulled him closer, bending down to kiss him on the cheek and exhaling cigarette smoke across his face, sending him into a coughing fit amongst cries to make sure 'Little Red' was alright. Vaguely, Kyle was grateful that at the very least, it was a kind, non-violent sort of group. Very touchy-feel-y, actually, judging by the frequency of their physical contact with himself and one another.

"Yo, **W**," **Z** called, causing Kyle to shake his head in vague amusement. Letters? "You got it?"

'**W**', a scruffy, shorter member of the circle of six people, tossed **Z** a bag filled with a greenish substance and Kyle watched in growing horror as he removed a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and, using the substance, began to roll a joint. Yes, you heard me. Kyle Broflovski and drugs. In the same sentence. _Twice._

Kyle shook his head, eyes wide, and tried to back away, muttering, "I, uh, gotta go. See you."

**Z** was having none if that. He slung his arm around Kyle's shoulders, drawing him into his side and announcing, "Nuh-uh. What've I told you about runnin' off, honey? You got a light, **V**?"

**V**, a tall, slick, greaser-esque man tossed **Z** a lighter, and Kyle vaguely wondered if there were really twenty-six of these freaks. He wrinkled his nose as an acrid stench filled the air, strengthening as each member lit their joint. **Z** took a long drag of it and, with a smirk, pressed his lips against Kyle's, making Kyle shriek and try to pull back as **Z** forced his lips apart and blew a lungful of smoke down his throat, smiling as he pulled away to watch Kyle sputter and choke and cough, blinking with a slight buzz.

Eyes tearing up, Kyle tried again to push away from the giggling stoner, lungs feeling abused as he breathed in their secondary smoke. **Z** crooned, rubbing the back of his neck and stroking his long auburn curls alternately as he struggled to stop his coughing fit.

After a few quiet moments in which Kyle plotted his escape in vain, another member asked passingly, "So, Red, how much for a blowjob?"

Kyle blinked bemusedly at him, shook his head, and huffed sarcastically in a moment of bravery and attitude fit for a black girl, "You can't afford me."

**Z** pressed his palm harshly on his frail shoulder and Kyle's knees buckled and he hit the concrete painfully, catching himself on his hands and wincing when he started to bleed from his palms. "Who says we're paying, Little Red?"

Kyle whimpered, staring fearfully up at his new 'friends'. They seemed to be genuinely nice guys-just creepy as fuck-and maybe if Kyle made it clear that he _really_ didn't want to suck them off, they'd let him-

He didn't get the chance. "If it ain't the Preschool Gang newbs." Kenny growled, replacing his phone in his pocket. Kyle wilted in relief, a small smile appearing on his lips. "This is how it works. I just snapped a picture and I have all six of your mothers' cell phone numbers in my contacts list. Step away now or I send the pic to your moms and castrate all of you."

He sounded absolutely livid, and Kyle winced as the boys backed away, terrified despite the fact that they probably didn't know what castration meant. The 'Preschool Gang' hesitated, though, and Kenny was abruptly in front of **Z** and punched him square in the nose, a satisfied smirk rising to his features as **Z**'s nose began to gush red life-liquid.

Kyle lowered his head to avoid seeing it, feeling his stomach lurch as the combination of his first ever high, smoke, and the coppery scent of blood overwhelmed him.

OoO

Kyle isn't looking too good, Kenny noted worriedly as he tugged him up by the arm. Kyle gagged slightly and Kenny rubbed his shoulder in comfort, mumbling something about taking him home.

Kenny was furious. Beyond furious, actually. He was ready to tear into any of the Preschool Gang, Kyle, anybody he could his fault in. He was positively livid.

By the time Kenny got his best friend back to his apartment (Child Services were called two years ago, when he was fourteen, and they've been helping him pay rent for the three-room apartment ever since), Kyle had sobered up and had long ago fallen silent. Patiently, Kenny sat him on his beat-up love-seat, looked over his palms briefly and shook his head, walking towards the kitchen where he gathered together a glass of water and a damp rag.

Kyle didn't say a word as Kenny gently pressed the glass to his lips, allowing Kenny to water him before taking hold of the glass himself. His eyes were fixed on his lap with the slightest hint of an embarrassed or maybe ashamed blush as Kenny grasped his wrists and ran the rag against the open wounds, clearing them of dirt. When Kenny set the rag aside, Kyle started to apologize and thank him only to be interrupted by a sharp _thwack_ to the side of his head.

"I am going to put you in a goddamn box, Kyle! You _know_, you _know_ you attract danger but you still wonder off! What would you have done, huh? What would you have done if I hadn't found you? Let yourself get mouth-raped? By the motherfucking_ Preschool Gang_? How stupid are you? What if** Z** took you back to Alphabet? Could you _handle_ being one of their whores? _**No**_!" Kenny, eyes glinting in rage, was probably exaggerating a bit, but the point remained. Unfortunately, Kyle had issues with being talked to in an angry voice, let alone being yelled at, and began to cry softly, a little overwhelmed. After several seconds of silence, the redhead gasped miserably, "What the fuck is the Preschool Gang?"

Kenny blinked, remembering again how naïve Kyle could be. His anger melted away and he sat heavily beside his friend, put his head in his hands and explaining apathetically, "It's one of the most powerful, largest gangs in South Park. It consists of thirty eight to forty seven members at any given time. They have a very simple social ladder. Alphabet rests at the top as the leader. Below him are the Elders or Numbers, the oldest members of the gang; One though Nine and then Zero. They advise Alphabet. Below them are the Letters, **A** through **Z**. The ones who have been there the longest are closer to **A** and the newer closer to **Z**. Below the Letters are the Rookies, or the Colors, Red, Blue, Yellow, Green, Orange, Purple, White, and Black. A new Rookie will work his way from Black to Red, then from** Z** to where-ever he gets on the ladder, and possibly to Nine. If he lives long enough, he'll get to Zero. The current Zero is eighty, I think. Alphabet has an apprentice at all times to take his place if he dies. The apprentice is called the Preschooler. They aren't all that bad, really. They work in the gray area of the law and try to keep the streets safe... But sometimes the younger members pull shit like **Z** and his group did to you. Oh, they also have Devon, the Preschooler. He'll inherit the gang one day, or he's supposed to. I'm thinking it'll turn out to be a joint rule."

By the end of his speech, Kyle had managed to wipe away his tears and now just seemed small. "Oh." he whispered, rubbing at his left eye with a broken giggle. "What a stupid name."

Kenny glared at him. "This is serious! I guarantee that all forty-somethin' of them know your face by now!"

Kyle faltered. "Am I... Am I in danger?"

Kenny smiled crookedly. "Karen is best friends with Alphabet's baby brother. I doubt there will be a problem from the whole gang, but **Z**'s group probably will give you some trouble."

Kyle looked scared. He tugged at Stan's Nickelback T-shirt anxiously and fiddled with the sleeves. Kenny melted a little. "Hey," He gripped the nerd's jaw gently, tilting his face up to meet his intense blue gaze, "You'll be fine. Just stick around me, alright? I've got you."

Kyle nodded, but still seemed unsure. Kenny pulled him into a hug, hesitating maybe a moment too long, and muttered again, "You're safe."

OoO

A scarf. Kenny almost snorted in disbelief. Did Kyle think he was stupid?

It was red, blue, and black, his favorite colors, fading in and out of each other waywardly. Kyle had it wrapped securely around his fragile neck, shielding it from the cold South Parkian winds... And Kenny's prying eyes.

It was two weeks after the incident at the concert, and Kyle was walking Kenny to Summer School like he did every day. Neither spoke, but every couple steps their shoulders touched and it made Kenny smile to see the inch or six he had on Kyle so blatantly obvious. Kyle was glancing at him nervously, indicating again that something was wrong. Kenny sighed, gripping his elbow domineeringly and tugging Kyle into an alleyway, ignoring the redhead's cries of _'Kenny, we'll be late! Don't!'_ and insistently tugging on the scarf.

Kyle tried to pull away, to keep his scarf in place, anything, but Kenny was relentless and pressed him against the wall, immobilizing him as Kenny tugged off the scarf at last.

The blond actually _howled_ his rage.

OoO

Kyle was crying silently as Kenny shoved him roughly onto the kitchen table and stormed out, tying knots into his scarf absent-mindedly and occasionally dabbing at his eyes with it. The cold metal of the ring locked in place around his neck made him shiver and grimace as he fingered the heavy padlock resting in the hollow of his throat. The pads of his fingers traced the _Z_ marked into it with a shudder and his tears started anew.

"Look at me." Kenny instructed, making Kyle jump. He hadn't heard him enter the room. His beautiful green irises rose to meet electric blue, but he immediately splayed his hands defensively out towards the camera pointed at him. "No!" Kyle gasped sharply, making Kenny lower the cheap disposable camera. "I know shit like this has happened before, but... I can't get it off and I want no evidence!"

Kenny watched him bemusedly for a moment before it clicked. "You feel owned." Kenny stated. After a pause, Kyle nodded ashamedly. Kenny sighed, fury still dancing behind his eyes. "Don't worry, Ky, you belong to me." Kyle blushed and made a noise of protest. "One picture, I swear. Just look straight ahead and pull your hair out of the way."

"Why?" Kyle whined, a horrified, shamed blush darkening his cheeks. Kenny grinned lopsidedly. "Proof for Alphabet."

With a shaky inhale as he did what he was told, Kyle observed, "You're very vengeful."

"People shouldn't fuck with my property."

"Excuse me, _your_ property?"

"Precisely." Kenny leaned in and shoved his lips against Kyle's, making him freeze in surprise. Kenny's lips were warm and dry and still, much to Kyle's interest. After a hazy moment in which a click was heard, Kenny backed away to leave Kyle blinking owlishly at the wall across the room.

Kenny cracked open his 1337 K17 with a smug smirk, revealing rubber bands, duct tape, wires, a sock, adapters, super glue, the Zombie Survival Guide, basic First Aid, shoelaces, and almost anything else you could possibly think of. Rummaging around the organized chaos, Kenny triumphantly extracted a hairpin, two paper-clips, and a pen knife.

Taking advantage if Kyle's near-comatose state, the charismatic blond set to work on the lock, mentally timing himself. A good lock-pick should be able to get any average lock undone in less than a minute.

Thirty-two seconds. Decent. Both Kenny and Kyle relaxed impossibly as the metal collar cracked open, revealing rubbed-raw skin that Kyle rubbed at absent-mindedly and a folded-up sheet if paper attached to the inside carefully. Taking the solid, heavy ring in his hands, Kenny carefully pulled away the paper, unfolding it slowly and snarling as he took in the message.

_Mine now, McCormick. ~**Z**_

"Mine." He muttered possessively. This seemed to shake Kyle awake as he looked up shyly at his friend, an even mixture of fear and trust in his eyes. Kenny stared at him balefully for a moment, then mumbled, "M'callin' Stan."

Kyle was instantly at his side, delicate fingers wrapped tightly around the blond's upper arm as he begged wholeheartedly, "No! C'mon, Kenny, Stan _escaped_! He's got two weeks left before he has to come back. You know how much he loves Duke, just let him stay there." Kenny considered the redhead for a tense moment before sighing and nodding, conditioning grimly, "You are to be within arm's reach at all times."

Kyle curled in on himself with a quiet, "Yessir."

Kenny shook his head, feeling heavy with emotional fatigue. "Don't call me sir."

"Okay." Kyle agreed carefully, not meeting Kenny eyes as he let go of his arm. "You missed class." he observed, trying to change the subject.

"It's okay." Kenny muttered, slinging an arm around his shoulders and leading him into the living/dining room separated from the kitchen by a low wooden counter. "I'm ahead, it's Friday, and you're far more important."

Kyle shook his head vehemently as Kenny sat him down, a light blush on his face. "Your studies are more important than my latest tragedy." Kenny pressed his lips to his forehead and swore, "Never."

OoO

Devon could feel his eyebrows rising steadily. He recognized the people in the picture; Kenny, Karen's big brother, and Kenny's personal Preschooler. The red head (that made Devon blush a little and smile when he saw him) was being kissed-very tamely, is Kenny losing his touch?-and seemed to have a collar on. The same collar, he noted, as the one dangling from his fingers at the moment. He quickly searched the heavy envelope for a letter of some kind, and came up short. He fidgeted a little, wondering if big brother would be angry that he didn't understand Kenny's message.

Feeling lost, Devon examined the collar again, noting with a small 'Oh.' that it had **Z** carved into the padlock. The childish brunette tsked, reprimanding the silent and empty room, "Never touch nobody's property without permission, Mr. **Z**."

He ran off to find his big brother, anxious to see if he would be pleased with him. He hoped so.

OoO

Alphabet smiled contentedly as he removed his arms from the poker table, letting his sweet little brother clamber into his lap and hugging him briefly, informing the other players that he'd be sitting out the rest of this round of R.E.S. and focusing on the brunette straddling his lap, trailing absent fingers across his thighs and lower back.

"What's up, Dev?" he asked, ignoring the mouthed 'You're so whipped!' from the other players (**A**, **K**, Three, and **M**) and pecking the child on the lips. Devon blushed a little, pushing a collar and the picture into his big brother's hands and announcing, "**Z** tried to claim Kenny's property!"

Alphabet's eyebrows rose slowly in disbelief as he looked over first the photo (mentally fist-bumping Kenny) and then the collar. A smirk rose on his face. Setting the items on the desk, Alphabet clasped his hands over his baby brother's ears, squirming a little at the sight of his innocently inquisitive baby-blue eyes fixed on his, and asked **A** conspiratorially, "Ain't **C** into the BDSM scene?"

Catching on, **A** grinned widely and nodded vigorously. "He's in-between subs at the moment and been lookin' into havin' a full time master/slave relationship... Just for a month or two. Perfect."

Alphabet tilted his head to the side, shoving away his rage at the arrogant teen and deciding to ensure the brat's safety. "He'd be given a safe word or whatever?" A nodded, "'magine so."

Still grinning at his plot as his closest friends resumed playing cards, Alphabet uncovered his baby brother's ears and captured his soft pink lips in a gentle kiss. Devon blushed, pulling away and hugging him around the neck. "What do you think, Dev? Should we demote **Z** back to Black and let Red become **Z**, or let **C** make **Z** learn some humility?"

The others pricked an ear, always interested to hear what their ever-fair Preschooler had to say. "Maybe..." Devon started strong but faltered, voice dropping into a murmur. "Maybe we could demote him to Red. Red is looking very promising, she'd be a wonderful new member... **Z** really doesn't deserve to work back through seven years of training. He's a good kid, just misguided. We could let **C** have **Z** for, like, a week? His birthday is just around the corner, we could give him **Z** as a gift. And, uh, ain't Six with-out an assistant? You know how overbearing Six can be, that'd be punishment in itself..."

By the end of his little rant, Devon's voice had faded into a whisper and Alphabet was kissing along his jaw, speaking through his affections, "Confidence, Dev. You have no self esteem. All in favor of the Preschooler's admittedly less harsh but probably fair idea?"

"Aye!" was heard around the table, and Three assured Alphabet that he'd run it by the other Numbers.

"Christopher?" Alphabet started at hearing his real name pass his angel's lips. A small blush spreading across his cheeks at the amused chuckles of his friends, he mumbled back, "Yeah, Dev?"

After a pause, the thirteen year old shrugged, leaning into his brother's chest, lovingly stroking his neck and mumbled, "Just miss hearin' and sayin' the name mama gave you."

'_Oh my god!'_ Alphabet mouthed over to his friends (who'd all known Devon more or less since birth and were long ago enraptured by him, though not a bad as Alphabet), who were shaking with laughter. **M**, the token girl in the group, gasped back at Alphabet's helpless expression, "He's just precious!"

Something seemed to dawn on Alphabet and he grinned, standing with one hand supporting Devon's cute Jean-clad ass and the other wrapped around his waist as Devon instinctually tightened his hold on the older raven-haired man. "If you'll excuse me..." He mock-pleaded the room, "I have an adorable baby brother to fuck senseless."

The other four sputtered slightly, watching bemusedly as Alphabet carried a flushed Preschooler away towards the commons. "He doesn't have to show off!" **K** groaned jealously, glaring at nothing. Three patted him on the shoulder. "After all the drama they went through to find lovers within each other, Alpha deserves a little indulgence, don't you think?"

**K** glared at the middle-aged man balefully. "Does wisdom come with the position naturally or is it injected?"

"Experience, my child." Three responded, nodding safely. "Experience?" **A** questioned with a smirk, setting his best friend up for their favorite joke, "What's experience?"

Three took on a grave expression. "It's what you get about a minute after you need it."  
_So there you have it. Jeez, it was hard to write. _  
**REVIEW! ...plz?**


	2. Chapter 2: Pet

_At last... part two of Possession. I'm marking it as complete for now, but there may be a sequel... Enjoy. Yes, I'm aware of how half-assed the ending is... But if it ever comes into fruitation, the sequel will be so kickass._

**Pet**

When Kyle agreed to always be within arms reach, he hadn't known that Kenny was being completely literal. It was unnerving, to say the least; the blond (with a quiet, frightening tendency to loom) seemed to always be at his shoulder, often touching his neck, back, legs, face, hair, and so-on. The next day (after having to sleep in Kenny's bed with him with little to no issue), it was more of the same. Kyle went to work, eight to two, at the ice-cream shop, and Kenny situated himself at the bar, working on homework and watching the redhead with his customers.

All of them were greeted by name, and close to half were immediately asked if they wanted 'the usual', always getting the affirmative. He flirted with the shy little girls who came in, and one in particular caught Kenny's interest.

The door chimed and Kyle looked up, a smile immediately breaking across his face as he called out, "Well, if it ain't my favorite girls!"

Kenny watched carefully, taking in the group with a feeling of nostalgia. They appeared to be around eleven, and terribly familiar. An awkward looking brunette with her hair up in pigtails held the hands of two of the other girls, an athletic-looking blond and a slightly-ragged looking raven. An overweight, confident redhead walked a little to the side, seeming content to watch the other three in a contemplative manner. Kenny smiled crookedly; they were the image of their group at that age. The shy one was obviously Kyle, the tallest in the group and looking awkward in her own skin. She was developing already and had obviously hit puberty ahead of her friends. She wore baggy clothing and hunched over slightly, almost like she was trying to hide.

The chubby one seemed to be watching the others. She was making a decision; probably, in the next year, she would choose to break from the group or make amends. Cartman broke off, rejoining the group geared toward Token, Craig, Tweek, Butters and sometimes Kenny. He had a feeling, from the way she looked at the others, that she would stay.

The athletic blond was Stan through and through. She was obviously very protective of the brunette, stepping maybe a little bit too close. They were obviously just as good of friends as Stan and Kyle were at that age. She was very charismatic, waving at Kyle and, with a cursory glance over the brunette, rushing over to speak animatedly to him.

The last one Kenny saw himself in. She was obviously on the poor side. She seemed uncomfortable with her exposed skin as rubbed along her arm, but her attention was focused solely on the shy brunette. Kenny remembered that well; the confusing growing infatuation with someone he'd been friends with for years.

"It's us." Kenny whispered to Kyle, who was leaning over the counter to hug the Stan-Girl. Kyle flashed a grin at him, kissing the brunette in pigtails on the forehead as she sat at the counter by the blond, tapping her thumbs together shyly at Kyle, who poked her in the nose, making her giggle and the poor one get a little defensive. But Kyle was already moving on to the redhead in the group. This one he engaged in a complicated handshake with; Kenny couldn't quite follow, but at the end Kyle pressed his lips to her knuckles and smiled crookedly, and it made Kenny smile as well, even if he was a little jealous.

The Kenny-Girl was last. Kyle cocked his head to the side and crossed his arms, feigning distaste with a raised eyebrow. The little blond mirrored Kyle's stance, detest strong on her face.

They held this stare-off for nearly a minute amongst giggles and snorts until Kyle finally cracked, opening the door to behind the counter and grinning widely as she practically tackled the redhead in a hug. With little trouble, Kyle plucked her up with a tight grip around her waist, spinning her around and laughing, "If it isn't the most beautiful girl in South Park!"

He set her down and she greeted, "If it isn't the most epic nerd in South Park!"

Kyle glared at her playfully and shooed her to go sit at the bar. He gestured Kenny over and introduced, "Girls, this is my other best friend, Kenny. Kenny, this Kennedy, Kylie, Sarah, and Erica."

With a smile and nod in their direction, Kenny whispered in an almost frightened tone, "Our _names_ are even alike!"

Kyle shrugged, smiling, and took the girls' order. All four ordered a sundae, and Kyle was extravagant with his talents as he piled the sugary confection high, placing one in front of each girl and bowing.

They giggled a little and all four offered up some cash. Kyle took the bills from the other three girls, but told Kennedy, "It's on the house, babe. The prettiest girl in South Park doesn't pay here."

Kennedy blushed, offered the money again, and was denied.

Kenny was so lucky to own someone so selfless! He sauntered over to Kennedy, and leaned down to whisper in her ear, gesturing towards Kylie pointedly, "Go for it."

Her big brown eyes stared up at him in awe. Not bothering to keep her voice down, she asked, "Really? You think so?"

"Thats what I'm doing, Ken, and you and me, we're alotta like. So are Kylie and Kyle."

OoO

Kyle was simply smitten with the girls, and actually looked a bit upset when they announced they had to leave. Kenny smiled a little at this, wondering just how close they were. "If it isn't the most beautiful girl in South Park!" he mocked, enjoying the laughter that bubbled from Kyle's throat. "Little young for you, ain't she?"

Kyle wrinkled his nose in distaste. "She's a sweet girl and all, but just _no_."

At that moment, Kenny's old-as-dirt Nokia tweeted in his pocket. Kyle grinned when it was taken out; it was indestructible (it once spent five minutes at the bottom of Stark's Pond, not to mention it survived a twelve-story drop), got signal almost everywhere, and predated Kenny, Flip-phones, and even Kevin (it used to be Carols, was given to Kevin, and Kenny eventually inherited it).

Kenny looked over the text and groaned. "What is it?" Kyle inquired, not looking up from wiping the table down with a rag like a real bartender. "Trouble in paradise." Kenny responded absently as he stood, stretching and pulling on his threadbare orange Parka, flipping up the hood and smiling at Kyle, though all the redhead could see were his squinted smile-eyes.

"I'll probably be back soon." Kenny started, already heading for the door, skirting a little boy and his father coming in, "So don't leave!"

OoO

The store was quiet, usual for the aftermath of the after-lunch rush. Nobody was in the ice cream parlor for the moment, and for that, Kyle was grateful. It couldn't last, however, for at that moment, the door chimed and Kyle's face split into a smile naturally as he rose his head to greet the newcomers. "Hello, Welcome to Ice Cream in the Snow, how can I-"

Kyle cut himself off, smile dropping. There were eight of them, and each wore a plain T-shirt in a different color; red, blue, yellow, orange, green, purple, white, black.

"Lemme guess." Kyle intoned apathetically. "You're the Preschool Gang Rookies?"

Who he presumed must be Red grinned like a Cheshire cat, sheepishly nodding at the handcuffs and burlap sack hanging from her fingers, almost apologetic.

Kyle rose his hands in compliance. "No, no, I get it. You got orders from somebody ranking higher than you. It's natural. Mind if I lock up first?"

Red agreed silently, watching him with eyes like a hawk as he closed up shop, making sure he didn't try to contact somebody. Kyle obeyed, however, and stood patiently as as Green handcuffed his hands behind his back. Kyle clasped his hands together, rocking up on his toes, and questioned curiously, "Who sent you, anyway? **Z** or Alphabet?"

In response, Red pressed a rag gently over his mouth and nose, and the redhead sighed as the depressingly familiar smell and taste of chloroform clogged his throat.

OoO

Kyle awoke to the sound of** Z**'s excited voice and hands caressing his neck and shoulders. "I think this is it, Red, I really do. I think they're making him officially my property! ... ...I sure wish you were allowed to talk, sis."

Kyle cracked his eyes open and saw nothing but the inside of the sack. He tried to speak, head spinning, but quickly discovered a cloth tied around his head as a gag. Instead, he groaned unhappily, drawing the attention of an ecstatic **Z**. "He's awake! How are you, my blissful little angel?"

The bag was removed from his head and Kyle flinched at the harsh light, **Z**'s lips on his on not registering until a moment after they'd gone. He blinked rapidly, taking in the room apathetically. It was set up like a courthouse. There was a large, official looking desk at the head of the room, enough benches to seat thirty or so people facing it, headed by two more desks. Off to the side was the equivalent of the Jury's area, two average schoolyard tables with ten seats. The chair he was loosely bound to sat in the middle of it all, ahead of the desk, looking towards the front of the room.

His ankles were tied to each leg of the chair and his wrists were bound together in his lap. A wide linen cloth wrapped around his waist and attached him to the chair, and a handkerchief was put in place as a make-shift gag. Only Red and **Z** were present.

Kyle took all this in silently. **Z** happily knelt at his side and pressed his lips to Kyle's neck and murmured against the delicate skin, making the redhead shudder, "Where's your collar? Shouldn't you want everybody to know you belong to_ Z_, a.k.a. the one and only _Donovan Salamander_?"

Stubbornly, Kyle shook his head, and **Z** immediately retaliated by sinking his teeth into the junction of his shoulder and his neck and sucking hard, causing the teen to gasp and squirm as a dark hickey was beckoned to the surface of his fragile pale skin.

At that moment, the door at the end of the hall created by the benches slammed open and **Z** immediately jumped to his feet as forty or so people trickled in, sitting in seemingly pre-planned spots on the benches, the Jury's table, and other assigned places around the room. Four people appeared to be guards, two by the doors and two in front of the desk.

As everyone settled, oddly silent, Kenny stormed in as well, marching right up to stand in front of 'his property'. Kyle tried to smile around the gag, and Kenny reached around his head to untie it, eyes glinting in suppressed rage as he reprimanded dangerously, "I told you to stay at the shop."

Licking his lips in relief as the gag fell away and disappeared into Kenny's pocket, he protested, "Ms. Red came and got me. I didn't have much choice in the matter!"

Kenny still looked angry, and hooked a finger under his chin to tilt his head back painfully. "They said you came willingly."

Kyle whimpered. "Red could play Kick the Baby with me and you know it!"

Kenny's lips tilted up into the tiniest hint of a smile and he sauntered off to the desk on the other side from **Z**'s, sending the gleeful man a loathing stare.

The door creaked open and Kyle instinctively knew he was about to meet Alphabet.

Kyle blinked in surprise. Alphabet looked like he should be trying to hold his college career together more than anything. Blond, average height, lithe build, everyday young adult clothes, pen stuck behind his ear, a book tucked under one arm, and a small, shy-looking brunette under the other. Kyle guessed the little boy (who looked to be twelve or so, half-asian, and sort of breakable) must be the Preschooler. Gavin? Devon?

Everyone stood as Alphabet made his way into the room and bowed deeply. Kyle, unable to do either, quickly lowered his head, letting his hair fall over his eyes and block his vision.

Alphabet ruffled his hair as he passed and Kyle flinched, trying to control his slightly panicked breathing in the quiet of the room. After a pause in which he guessed Alphabet and his Preschooler settled into their desk, one of the guards announced in a stoic voice, "Be seated and silent."

Tentatively, Kyle rose his head to watch the procession.

"The Gang, minus the usual eight o'clock patrol and a few other busy members, has been called together to settle a property ownership dispute between Donovan R. Salamander, rank **Z**, and Kenneth C. McCormick, one of the Preschool Gang's founding fathers. The property in question is one Kyle Broflovski, sixteen teen year old citizen of South Park. Kenneth McCormick is accusing Donovan Salamander of trying to molest, mark, claim, and otherwise distress his property."

Kyle couldn't help but pipe up at this. "I'm not... I'm not a piece of land! People cannot be owned in the United States of America!"

Alphabet frowned at him in distaste. Off to the side, Kenny face-palmed in exasperation. Most of the crowd began to laugh. "Ky-Pet," Kenny corrected himself quickly, pleading leaking into his tone, "Shush or I will have to punish you."

"Kenneth _Christian_ McCormick, I swear to whatever all-powerful deity may or may not deign over the mortal realm we appear to exist in that if you don't take back that derogatory term _this__ instant_, I'll kick your-I'll get Stan to kick your ass!"

Silence. Followed closely by uproarious laughter. Kenny actually hid his face in his hands.

After a few moments of convulsing in laughter, Alphabet casually fired a blank into the air. Everything fell silent once again. Kyle trembled, wide-eyed, in his place. After a tense moment, Kenny spoke up. "I know you aren't familiar with the Gang, Pet, but rest assured, you are property. You are property up for grabs, and if you want to go to a caring owner, shut the fuck up and _be property_, for chrissake. Now is not the time for one of your civil rights missions."

"But, Kenny-"

"I'm serious, Pet."

Kyle fell silent. Alphabet cleared his throat, trying to push down his amusement. "McCormick, what is your relationship with the property?"

Kenny cleared his throat, glancing at Kyle with a very small smile. "I met him in Preschool. I was four and he was three. He shared his umbrella with me and walked me home three weeks into school, and we quickly became good friends. We've been inseperable ever since."

"I see. When did you claim him as being yours?"

"A little over four years ago."

Kyle was speaking before he really thought. "Why the fuck was I not informed?"

Kenny pinched the bridge of his nose. "What have you been wearing for the past four years, Pet?"

"What are you-oh." Alphabet eyed the thoughtful redhead with interest. "Care to share?"

Kyle nodded quickly, raising his bound hands to pull a small charm on a silver chain out from under his shirt. It was a completely plain vertical oval, silver and about an inch tall. "Kenny gave this to me for my twelfth birthday... I guess now I know why he insisted in putting it on me."

"So," Alphabet stated decisively, glaring subtly at **Z**, who appeared to be somewhat stunned, maybe a little panicked, scared. "Mr. McCormick, you collared your property some time ago."

Kenny nodded contentedly and Kyle choked, sputtering, "Collared!"

Alphabet turned his intense dark eyes on Kyle, making him shrink back slightly. "What is the full extent of the trauma at Salamander's hand?"

Kyle's brain was working slowly. "He, uh, molested me twice... Threatened rape... Blew second hand Marijuana smoke down my throat... Stalked me... Shoved me against an alley wall and collared me..."

"Did he leave any bruising or marks?"

Kyle blushed slightly. "He tore up my palms when he pushed me to the ground... And I think my neck is still bleeding from him biting me not fifteen minutes ago." he tilted his head to the side, and his hair fell to reveal shallow cuts in his neck and a deep bruise in the shape of a bite mark. **Z** winced.

Alphabet pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. "Do you even _want_ to make a statement in your defense for sexually harassing one of the Gang's founding father's property?"

**Z** sounded small and his head hung in shame. "N-no, sir."

"Jury?"

"Guilty." A very old man replied with a certain glee in his voice.

"Thank you, Zero. Preschooler, if you please?"

The little brunette, silent until then, stood hesitantly, looking out at the people with a pale face. "P-p-punishment issued for this m-misbehavior will be my r-responsibility. Your p-punished will be deeds, and, uh, oh, jeez, I'm getting all mixed up!" Devon hid his face in his hands, cheeks bright red, and the room as a whole laughed a little.

Alphabet grinned mischievously at **Z**. "**Z**, step forward. Red, step forward."

Both did as they were told, looking mildly anxious.

"**Z**." Alphabet started, looking stern. "You are being demoted. In order to seal the vow of silence taken as a Rookie, you will say your last words until you are promoted back to **Z** and then bow."

**Z** thought for a moment, looking as though he may cry. "I fucked up." he decided at last, bowing deeply.

"Take your seat, newly demoted Red."

The boy sat, and Alphabet turned his attention to an excited Red. "Red, step forward. To accept your new position as **Z**, break your vow of silence and bow. It is tradition in this situation to respond to the former **Z**'s last words."

Her voice was extremely scratchy and hoarse from lack of use. "Yes, little bro, you most certainly fucked up."

OoO

Kyle was eying Kenny uncertainly. "This bothers me." he announced at length, causing Kenny to nearly double over in laughter.

"What, exactly, are you referring to, Pet?" Kenny gasped in glee, "The rope tied around your waist, your new status as a Pet, the fact that the entire Gang was just informed that you are my property, what?"

Kyle still held a firm grip on the rope tied about his waist, though Kenny blissfully kept hold of the other end. He eyed the official-looking papers clutched in the blond's other hand with distaste. "Actually, out of all of this, I think the fact that you have papers proving I belong to you bothers me more than anything else."

Kenny wrapped a reassuring arm around the little redhead's shoulders. "I wrapped my symbol around your neck when you were twelve. The only difference is that it's officially a gang dispute if anybody messes with you. You're kinda a member of the gang, now."

Kyle froze, staring at Kenny in shock. "I'm part of a _gang_?"

"Sort of." Kenny corrected, "I'm one of the founding fathers. I'm not an official part of the gang, but I do do work for it and I get just as much respect as Alphabet does. You belong to me, and are therefore gang property, and since you're human, you're also a member."

"Mom's gonna kill me." Kyle whined, eyes wide. Kenny smirked. "She can't. I've got rights to who kills you." At Kyle's bemused stare, Kenny continued, "Don't worry too much about it. These papers don't mean much outside of the Gangs."

"Dude." Kyle squeaked, "We're in _South Park_. Our legal system is just fucked up enough that I should worry about those forms."

Kenny tugged on Kyle's 'leash' lightly, almost making him fall over as he stumbled.

OoO

Kyle was more than a little uncomfortable. Kenny, shortly after telling Kyle very firmly to shut up because he's 'holding the leash in this relationship', was invited by Alphabet to engage in a game of poker. Somehow, this led to Kyle sitting on the floor next to the charismatic blond's chair, listening to them laugh and curse and bicker as chips are shuffled back and forth across the table. The hoodrat was slightly inebriated, but, thankfully, didn't bother the redhead any more than to pet his curls absently.

Until just now. Kyle blushed as he found himself quite suddenly seated on the blond's lap, being shamelessly shown off by his best friend to a group of men (plus new **Z**) that were perfect strangers to him. Kenny was rambling about his attributes, everything from how pretty his eyes were to his ability to cook to helping with homework to his blush to anything else he could think of. "Kenny!" he whined, clasping his hand over the blond's lips forcibly, trying to squirm his way out of the teen's grasp. Alphabet laughed boisterously, patting the redhead on the knee, which drew a scowl from Kenny.

"Mine." he mumbled childishly, tugging his property closer. Kyle blushed. "C'mon, Kenny..." he coaxed, "You're making me uncomfortable. Will you please let me go home?"

The blond cocked his head to the side, looking absolutely ecstatic. "Can we have sex?"

Kyle slapped him over the head, finally escaping and trying to run away only to remember just in time to keep himself from falling that the rope around his ankle was attached to Kenny's chair. His green glare was positively murderous.

"Please?" he asked again, clasping his hands together and pouting. Zero patted him sympathetically on the back.

Kyle threw his hands up in the air, mumbling about deranged hoodrats and ropes and the Alphabet and Preschoolers.

Nobody noticed the curious figure outside the window, watching _the_ Kenny McCormick's first real pet with interest. _Perhaps,_ she thought to herself, _the Schoolyard Gang could take advantage of this... He's so small. Easy to steal..._

_**UH OH... REVIEW!**_


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